


(your love) feels like all four seasons

by queerofcups



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:16:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerofcups/pseuds/queerofcups
Summary: A night at the Lester's for the holidays





	(your love) feels like all four seasons

“What are you doing?” Dan asks, trying to keep his voice down, swatting at Phil’s wrist.

 They’re in the guest room of the Lester’s new house, and had been kissing quietly, tucked away warm beneath a mountain of blankets, listening to the sounds of a settling house. There’s light filtering in from the streetlamp and the flashing Christmas lights of the neighboring house, intermittently lighting the room dimly.  

 Phil had slipped a hand beneath the lax waistband of Dan’s pyjamas and grabbed his ass with intent. His hand was warm, and soft and Dan had let out a little sigh and leaned into the familiar feeling for a moment, before remembering where he was. He’d intended to stop kissing Phil before they’d got to this point but the kind of love the Lester’s had made him feel a little delirious with happiness and the feelings he could only really identify as _family_ , which in turn made him a bit touchier than usual. Phil usually laughs at him and makes jokes about his biological clock ticking, but goes along with the half-desperate touches anyway.

 “...groping you?” Phil says as if it should be obvious. He squeezes the muscle of Dan’s right ass cheek, emphasizing the ridiculousness of the question.

 “Stop that!” Dan says, pulling Phil’s hand out of his clothes and placing it on a nice, non-erogenous bit of Dan’s hip. “We’re at your parent’s house!”

 “Yes,” Phil agrees, “Just like we were earlier this year. And years before.”

 Dan rolls his eyes and rolls over onto his back, looking at the dark ceiling of the bedroom.

 “That’s different,” he tells Phil quietly. “Your parents weren’t _right there_.”

 The old house’s layout had been a godsend, Phil’s bedroom on a completely different floor from his parent’s, complete with creaky stairs so they’d always had ample warning to untangle themselves and right there clothes before anyone could even knock on the door. The new house’s arrangement wasn’t nearly as forgiving, the bedrooms clustered together, only separated by bathrooms and closets. There was a second guestroom between them and Phil’s parents but it held Martyn and Cornelia so it’s not like that was much better.

 “So be quie _t_ ,” Phil says, like it’s just that easy.

 It’s _not_ easy for Dan, is the thing. He knows himself and he knows Phil and he knows sex between them. He always starts out thinking he’s being quiet, only for Phil to tell him afterwards about all the mewls and groans and grunts Dan’s brain had just not registered.

 “ _You_ be quiet,” Dan says trying to sound firm. He’s not sure how effective it is when he lets himself be tugged back over onto his side, lets Phil kiss him, kisses Phil back.

 Whatever intentlessness they’d had before is gone now, Phil’s hand returning to Dan’s ass, his teeth back to worrying Dan’s lower lip.

Dan doesn’t have to ask to know that Phil’s just turned this into a little competition between his ability to turn Dan on and Dan’s desire to keep the Lesters from thinking of him as a little trollop. The last part is an old, long-standing anxiety—the result of Dan’s general desire to be the best possible version of himself for Phil’s parents and the nerve-wracking understanding that Phil’s parents probably assume that he and Phil have sex.

 Phil pulls away and looks at him.

 “You’re thinking too much,” Phil tells him, smoothing a hand across Dan’s side and pulling him even closer, fitting their bodies together. He leans forward to kiss the corner of Dan’s mouth, his cheek soft and warm against Dan’s lips. Dan can’t help the sigh that falls from his lips. This is enough to take him from vaguely turned on to sensitive warmth gathering in the cradle of his hips.

 “Your parents probably think we have sex,” Dan says, fully aware how ridiculous he sounds.

 “Are you worrying about the trollop thing again?” Phil asks, then, before Dan can answer, pushes at his hip, saying, “Turn over.”

 “We’re having sex right next door to your parents,” Dan grumbles as he turns over, pressing his back against Phil, wiggling his hips to press his ass against the firmness of Phil’s cock. He’s halfway there, not as hard as Dan but swiftly approaching. “Of course, I’m worrying about the trollop thing.”

 “They’re down the hall,” Phil says and presses kisses along the back of Dan’s neck. “Can we stop talking about my parents now?”

 Dan doesn’t answer, closing his eyes and trying to keep his cut off little gasps quiet while Phil drops kisses and bites along the back and sides of his neck.

 “Do you remember the first time?” Phil rumbles against his chest. “At the old house?”

 As if Dan could forget the first time they’d had sex, half delirious with sleep deprivation, still buzzing with the disbelief that they were in the same space, that they could _have_ each other. Dan could still remember pressing himself back against Phil’s chest, the way Phil answered every one of his whimpered moans with a shush, but wouldn’t stop making Dan make those noises.

 “I remember,” Dan says.

 “Good,” Phil says, “C’mon. Up, up.”

 Dan’s back is cold where Phil’s left him to sit up. He glances over his shoulder to see Phil looking at him expectantly, his back against the headboard and knee nudging Dan’s side as he spreads his legs.

“This seems unnecessary,” Dan says, rolling around in the bed until he’s sat up as well, tucked in between Phil’s thigh, back pressed against Phil’s chest. At least they’re the same height, the scant inches difference between them leaving Dan’s legs a little uneven with Phil’s.

“Your mom’s unnecessary,” Phil says, tugging Dan’s head back to kiss him, his mouth hot and wet on Dan’s. He rubs across Dan’s chest, letting Dan settle into the new position and when Dan pulls away to get a full breath, he licks across his palm and pushes his hand back into Dan’s pyjamas, wrapping his familiar grip around Dan’s cock. Dan fucks up into Phil’s fist instinctively, unable to keep still. He rolls his hips a few times, pleased noises leaking from his throat.

His brain is scrabbling at Phil’s words, trying to think of a response but he gets lost in the sensation, twisting his fingers in the cloth of Phil’s own pajamas, squirming between Phil’s legs.

The totality of his position skitters under his skin, pleasure ebbing and flowing across his body bursting into little explosions every time he moves his hips or Phil squeezes a little tighter. He looks down to see his spread legs, the shape of Phil’s hand stroking him off beneath cloth that’s gone a little damp in the front with his pre-come. He groans, a touch louder, and Phil slips a gentle hand up to press against his mouth.

Dan lets his head fall back to rest on Phil’s shoulder, closing his eyes to better feel the edges of Phil’s hand pressed against his chin and nose. They don’t do this often, there’s no reason to be quiet in their own home and Dan’s a little afraid of how unhinged it makes him feel to let Phil take control like this.

“Hush,” Phil says, sounding remarkably unaffected for the way he’s pressing forward, his dick firm and blood hot against Dan’s back even through thick fleece. 

He presses his hand a little more firmly against Dan’s mouth. Dan’s inhale is sharp and almost loud in the quiet of the room, the only other sound the wetness of Phil’s hand on his cock. 

Normally, it would take more, and longer, to get Dan there—but he feels spread open and vulnerable, Phil’s hands are hot and familiar on his body and he’s feels the echoes of that first time, the disbelief and urgency, the need to come drawing his balls tight and his breath short. 

He realizes he’s making those same high, bitten off sounds and Phil is murmuring encouraging noises, sounding winded and like he’s not far from the same plateau Dan’s approaching. 

“I wish we had lube,” Phil sighs, pressing a toothy kiss against the taut cords of Dan’s neck. “Want to get a few fingers in you, see how long you could keep quiet if I fucked you like this.” 

Dan’s orgasm, when it comes, is a spreading warmth, a sudden melting of the tension building between them, spurred on by the image of himself, grinding down onto Phil’s lap, asshole clenching around Phil’s cock, not allowed to do anything but take it. 

 He presses back hard against Phil’s chest, shoves his hips forward and holds his breath to keep the cacophony of messy noises inside his chest. He doesn’t breath again until he finishes and he relaxes back against Phil, who tugs his hips closer and ruts shamelessly against his back for another few seconds and tightens his fingers into Dan’s skin as he comes just as silently. 

Dan slides awkwardly to the side, off of Phil and onto the bed.

“Our clothes are gonna be so gross,” he says, yawning and letting Phil manhandle him off. He’s mostly asleep when Phil throws a damp washcloth on him and makes sleepy, grateful noises as he does a half assed job of cleaning himself off.

“Happy Christmas,” Phil says when they’re tucked back into the bed. “You trollop.”

He laughs as Dan presses his face into his pillow and makes muffled, distressed noises.

 

**Author's Note:**

> merry happy, find me at queerofcups.tumblr.com


End file.
